


heartbeat

by pessimisticprose



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Apparently enough to make him wake up from a curse, Cursed Stiles, Fluff, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Stiles Loves Derek, True Love's Kiss, oops spoilers, there's a little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:37:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2006082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pessimisticprose/pseuds/pessimisticprose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone’s howling a victorious howl when Stiles’ heartbeat lulls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. All I write about anymore is Stiles either being cursed or removing curses. *sighs for days* 
> 
> I rly debated posting this. I feel like it's not up to par with what I usually write. Sorry if I offend you with its poor quality. 
> 
> Maybe I'll actually post my FBI AU. Idk
> 
> The notes are where I can ramble. Right?

The witches defeated, the battle won, the excitement is palpable. Erica hoots and launches her lithe frame into Boyd’s arms. The witches’ remains are scattered around the clearing and Isaac sets about to start the fire to burn them. Everyone’s howling a victorious howl when Stiles’ heartbeat lulls.

Scott catches him before he can bash his head against the ground. Everyone is shock still, silent–save for Scott, Lydia, and Derek, who are all beside him in a flash– and watching with horror-struck eyes. Scott lays him on the ground and makes sure his head isn’t near any rocks. Stiles’ eyes are darting all over the place, but he looks disoriented, like he can’t focus.

“Stiles,” Lydia says, “Breathe. In out.”

He tries to say something to her, but the words are so slurred no one understands him. His heartbeat is steady, but it’s too slow to keep him alive for long. Around thirty or forty beats a minute, by Derek’s guess. Fast enough to keep a finely-tuned athlete alive, but not nearly enough for the walking bundle of energy that is Stiles.

Derek pushes Scott away and puts his head on Stiles’ chest, right over his heart. He feels Stiles’ hand spasm, like it wants to push him away or pull him closer, but he doesn’t have the energy to follow through. With his heart this close, he can hear the beats slowing more and more as they go.

“It’s getting slower,” Derek snarls to the pack. “Get his Jeep, we can put him in the back.” He barks the order to any beta that will listen and he hears Erica and Isaac scramble to do what he says. Derek pulls Stiles up, arms around his back, but Stiles is limp in his arms, like he can’t hold himself up. He takes Stiles’ face in his hands and says to him, “I’m taking you to Deaton. Okay?”

Stiles still has a glassy look in his eye, but he nods to Derek. Derek picks him up like he’s precious cargo and sits him across the backseat. Scott clambers in after him to make sure Stiles doesn’t go flying.

Derek shoves the key in the ignition and Erica and Lydia both rush to get to Lydia’s car. “Go!” Erica shouts, waving them ahead of their car. Derek growls and throws the Jeep into drive, speeding off to Deaton’s and leaving Isaac, Jackson, and Boyd with the cleanup of various witch limbs.

He hears Stiles groan and speeds up, blatantly ignoring the speed limit and a stop sign or two. Derek usually dreads seeing Deaton, since usually seeing him means he’s bleeding out on the operating table of there’s someone invading Beacon Hills, but seeing the familiar sight of the animal clinic is a huge relief today. He practically rips the door off of the Jeep so he can get Stiles–Stiles whose heartbeat is around the low thirties at this point–into the clinic.

Deaton takes one look at them and changes the open sign to a red ‘closed’ with a sigh. “What happened?” Derek carries Stiles to the metal operating table and gently lays him on his back.

“We beat the coven of witches,” Erica starts.

“And we thought we won,” Scott says. “But then Stiles passed out.”

“No, he fell over because he’s disoriented and dizzy. Get your details right, Scott,” Lydia barks when she walks in, voice haughty. Normally Scott would retort, but he must know the details are crucial, because he doesn’t say anything. “Anyway, he can’t concentrate, he’s completely disoriented, his eyes won’t focus. He couldn’t even say something to us.”

Derek grits out, “His heartbeat was in the high forties around that point, but now it’s in the low thirties.”

Deaton nods thoughtfully. He shines a light into Stiles’ eyes for a few tense seconds and then turns to them. “I believe a witch placed what we call an Aurora Curse on him. His heartbeat slowing is the only effect of the spell, but the slow heartbeat causes a myriad of other side effects. He’ll eventually fall into a deep sleep, but a kiss won’t wake him up from it like the fairy tale suggests. However, a kiss is what breaks the spell.”

“A kiss? Any kiss? Fuck, I’d kiss him if he’d get better!” Erica says.

“No. Again, like in a fairy tale, it must be True Love’s Kiss.” Deaton looks at everyone evenly. His voice is dry when he says, “I don’t suppose he’s in love with any of you.”

Stiles groans and twitches on the table. The focus on the room goes from the kiss to Stiles. He shakes his head back and forth and whines out, “Than’s for tryin’.”

Lydia smooths out his hair and looks at Deaton. “I’ll kiss him. Last I knew he still had his decade-long crush and an even longer plan to marry me.” Lydia circles around the table, taking Derek’s place beside him, and leans down. Derek has to ball his hands into fists to keep from ripping her away from him. This is what’s best for Stiles. Her lips meet his for a few seconds, but his heartbeat doesn’t quicken. If anything, it slows even more. Lydia looks at him expectantly, but Stiles doesn’t respond.

Derek shakes his head. “It didn’t work.” He pushes her to the side–anything to get her away from him–and leans his head back on his chest. The heartbeat is fading even more quickly now. “It’s getting slower.”

“The wrong kiss makes it worse,” Deaton says a moment later, scanning through a passage of an old book. “Based on the tempo of his heart rate, someone else can try.” He looks at the three wolves–and Lydia–in the room and his eyes seem to linger on Derek. Deaton steps towards Stiles and snaps his fingers. “Stiles, still with us?” Stiles’ eyes squeeze shut tighter and Deaton sighs. “It can’t hurt to try, if anyone–”

Scott pushes Derek towards Stiles. “Go!”

“What?” Derek asks, nostrils flaring.

“He’s in love with you! You have to know that!” Scott says with wild eyes. “He told me not to say anything, but Jesus Christ he’s dying.”

Derek’s vision narrows to nothing but Stiles laying on the table. He looks pale, like he’s only an inch from death. His heart is too slow; far, far too slow for Derek’s liking, but it has been for fifteen minutes now. He takes a step towards Stiles and Stiles doesn’t even respond. He has a flash of panic that he might be too late, but Stiles’ amber eyes flutter open. They still have an unfocused look about them, but the amber orbs valiantly try to keep on Derek’s face. They slide shut again in a second, like the effort was too much.

Derek leans down towards Stiles’ lips. They look paler than they normally do (Derek has to take a moment to come to terms with the fact he knows the natural color of Stiles’ lips by heart; he knew he stared a lot, but c’mon), but they’re still plump and perfectly symmetrical. Derek breathes deeply and swoops down, placing his lips on Stiles’. He pulls back later than Lydia did. At least, when this kiss doesn’t work, he’ll be able to say he kissed Stiles before he died. Or went into an endless sleep.

But, instead of hearing the heartbeat taper off like he’d thought he’d hear, the overly familiar rhythm spikes. It isn’t the frantic beating he’s used to hearing around Stiles, nor is it fast enough to be safe, but it’s certainly faster than what it bad been–up in the forties now and gradually climbing.

Stiles groans out and his eyes open slowly. Just like a fucking fairy tale. Scott pushes past Derek and looks down at Stiles. Stiles’ voice is thick when he says, “Well Jesus, I must not be in heaven if I come to with you above me, Scotty.”

Scott and Erica both choke on relieved laughter and Lydia’s staring at Derek like she’s in on some grand joke he isn’t yet. Scott and Deaton help Stiles sit up. “What happened?” Scott asks.

Stiles’ heartbeat is still sluggish, but it’s steadily climbing to normal. “Witch. Residue magic that sought out the nearest source of magic to try and destroy. I felt it before I collapsed.” He breathes deeply for a while and Derek can tell he feels claustrophobic with everyone so close.

“Back up,” Derek says gruffly. “He’s probably a little overwhelmed. Give him some room.” Erica backs up, listening to her alpha, but Scott and Lydia look a little nervous about leaving him more than a foot out of their reach. Stiles tries to swing his legs over the side of the operating table, but he sways and he’s too sluggish to catch himself. Derek bursts forward to catch him before he can brain himself on something in the clinic.

Stiles looks up at him through his long eyelashes and Derek wonders when he ever noticed his eyelash length. “Sorry.” Derek nods and gently sits Stiles upright. “Man,” Stiles groans. “I feel like someone injected me with Jell-O.”

“Do you feel anything unordinary?” Deaton asks.

“I feel tired, really fucking tired. Kind of short of breath? Weird. And honestly, a little horny.”

Deaton sighs like the world is a test to his sanity and says, “He’ll be fine. He just has to get some rest and he’ll be as good as new tomorrow morning. Someone should probably drive him home.” His eyes rest on Derek momentarily and Derek kind of wants to either punch him in the face or thank him. He settles on nodding at the veterinarian.

“I’ll take him home,” Derek says gruffly. Scott looks annoyed and Derek can tell he’s about to argue, but then Stiles grins and he doesn’t complain.

“Thanks, man. I can’t really feel my toes yet,” Stiles jokes. He slowly gets down off of the table (with help from Scott and Derek) and stretches his limbs out. “I’m going to sleep for forever.” He hits Derek’s jacket. “Go, wolf man. My bed is calling me.”

He hears Erica snort and mutter, “Derek, too.” He shoots Erica a scowl, but she only smirks in retaliation. Derek stays close behind Stiles in case he drops, but his heartbeat is only slightly below normal now. He’ll be fine. Derek even trails at his side to help Stiles in the passenger side of the Jeep, just in case he needs it.

When Derek starts the Jeep up, Stiles is leaning back in the seat, eyes shut. Derek pointedly does not stare at Stiles–he’s fucking driving after all–but he can still _feel_ Stiles in the car. He can feel him anywhere.

“Thanks for giving me a ride,” Stiles says quietly, when they arrive at his house. “How are you going to get home?”

“I’ll call Isaac,” Derek answers.

“Mmkay.” Stiles unbuckles his seatbelt, but doesn’t make a move to get out of the car. Eventually, he sighs and opens the door. “I have freaking chem homework. Kill me now.” He looks back at Derek after he hops out of the Jeep. “Sorry for making you kiss me.”

Derek doesn’t really register Stiles’ words until he’s already inside his house. Stiles thinks he didn’t want to. After that he’s furiously fighting with the seatbelt he put on, trying to untangle himself, but the frustration that’s bubbling up is making it difficult to concentrate. Of course his supernatural grace would fail him now. He refrains from clawing it and all but runs to the front door. He stands there for a second and feels unsure of himself. The police cruiser isn’t there, but he’s not used to entering Stiles’ house through the front door. He knocks hesitantly, trying not to run, but Stiles comes to the door after only a few seconds. Derek holds up the keys to the Jeep.

“You forgot something.”

“Oh,” Stiles says. Derek sees his face fall. “Thanks.” He takes the keys and pockets them.

Derek steps into Stiles space and a growl deep in his chest rumbles before he can stop it. He doesn’t say the cheesy line that he forgot a kiss, too, but he seriously considers it. He pulls Stiles close and leans down to press his lips to Stiles’. He feels Stiles groan against his mouth. He doesn’t pull away. Actually, he fists Derek’s shirt in one of his hands and twists the other into Derek’s hair and pulls him impossibly _closer_. Derek smiles against Stiles’ mouth and puts a hand on the back of his head and the other on the small of his back, keeping him in place and flush against his body.

Stiles is the first to pull back, heart racing and pupils huge. “Jesus _Christ_ , Derek. What was that?”

Derek grins at Stiles and hears his heart speed up even more. It’s kind of refreshing to hear.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr name is pessimisticprose
> 
> Join me. 
> 
> (and teach me how to link on this site, jfc)


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